She Who Dares, Wins

“The rest? How long has this been going on?” She mentally checked the facts she had in her head. From what they’d been told by the dean, this had been happening for only a few weeks.

Mac cleared his throat again and moved toward a file cabinet. Pulling out a folder, he handed it to her. “The calls began about six months ago. The letters about two weeks ago, and to be honest it’s nothing. Scientists run into this sort of thing all the time. It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

Katie didn’t believe that. “What do you mean it happens all the time?”

“Those of us who work on government-sponsored projects get threats all the time. The work is secretive and highly classified. People assume it’s weapons of mass destruction, and that pushes them to do all kinds of things.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Katie said. Though she had no doubt there were people in the world who would do exactly that. It was insane to threaten someone without having any clue as to what they were really working on.

“I assure you I’m speaking the truth.” Mac acted as if he were offended.

“I don’t doubt the validity of what you’re saying, Dr. Douglas. I was calling the people who would do such a thing ridiculous, not you.”

“Oh,” he said.

She took out the plastic gloves she kept in her bag and slipped them on her hands. Opening the folder, she read the letter carefully.

“Stop your research or die!”

The words had been typed. She sniffed the paper. It had been printed off on a printer. Excellent. That was her first lead. “I’ll need to take this and have it tested in our lab,” she told the professor.

“I don’t know what good that will do, Katie. My fingerprints are all over it.”

She shook her head. “I’m not worried about prints, though I’ll have them check for those, too. I want to find out about the ink. If I know the source of the ink, that gives me the type of printer, and the watermark on the paper is easy to trace.”

After placing the paper in an evidence bag, she pulled out the flash drive with the calls on it. The dean and professor had digitally recorded the messages, which made it easier for her. Normally she’d pop it into her computer, but she couldn’t do that.

“Do you have a computer I can borrow? My laptop is down.” No reason to explain her idiocy to the man. “Sure.”

He reached under the table and pulled out a laptop. “You can use this as much as you want. We have two extras in the lab.”

“Thanks,” she said, not bothering to look up. She waited for the computer to boot up and attached the flash drive.

The voice was mechanical, and she knew immediately the caller had used a cheap synthesizer. The message was the same as the one on the paper.

“This person isn’t very original,” she said. Her office had the equipment to separate the voices, and there was a good chance they would be able to tell her in a matter of days if it were male or female and what kind of accent.

“I agree with you.” Mac sat on a stool at the end of the long steel table. He’d been watching her carefully while she worked, and it took everything she had not to look up at him. As mad as she was at him about his deception, their night had been unforgettable. At least the bulky sweats hid her perky nipples tight with the need for Mac’s touch. “That’s why I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

“I have to disagree. This, along with the accidents, makes me think we’re dealing with individuals or a small group who mean you harm. The threats are escalating, and that’s never good. You need to take these seriously. I have no doubt these people want you dead.”

4

MACON HAD LOST HIS MIND. It was as simple as that. This pint-size pixie told him someone wanted to kill him, and all he could think about was kissing her soft red lips. He’d had to sit down on the stool to keep her from seeing the hardness under his jeans, caused by the way she pursed her lips when she was thinking.

The woman was an enigma. One minute she was pure sex, the next a professional detective. He wasn’t sure which one he liked best. Everything about her was sexy. Though he didn’t think this was the right time to tell her so.

The emotions playing over her face when she’d realized what had happened the night before had been surprise, anger and then something he couldn’t identify. He had a feeling she used that look when she had criminals under interrogation.

He’d royally screwed up. Still, he wouldn’t change the night for anything. In fact, he’d do just about anything to make it happen again. Unfortunately, it would take a great deal of coaxing to get her to acquiesce. Katie had a tough side, and forgiving him would be difficult for her, which made him want to try all the more.

She’d listened to the recordings again, her face a mass of concentration. What was it about her that had him so tied up in knots?

The last thing he needed in his life was a complicated woman, and Katie was certainly that. He didn’t have time for someone nosing into his life, especially with curves that—No. He needed to get rid of this woman and get back to work. As soon as he thought the words, he knew there was no way they were true. He wanted her again, and he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

“You weren’t what I expected.” She glanced around his laboratory.

“What do you mean?” He was more than curious about that statement.

“To be honest, I expected the elderly professor type.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said with a smile.

She didn’t return it. Yes, she was one tough woman.

“Tell me again why you and the dean are keeping Scotland Yard out of this? Seems to me that would be the first place to turn.”

Mac frowned. “We can’t risk it right now,” he said. “As I mentioned before, this is highly classified research. The cops would want to snoop into my work, and I’m at a crucial point right now. I can’t afford someone accidentally leaking information. The dean didn’t want to involve the police in order to protect the university’s reputation. He knew I wasn’t going to call anyone because of the nature of what I’m working on. You and your company were the dean’s idea.”

“I detect some sarcasm in there,” she said as she popped the flash drive into another evidence bag. “The dean may very well have saved your life. As I mentioned before, these threats are real, and they will continue to escalate. It’s important we find the culprits as quickly as possible before they can do any more harm.”

“So what is your plan?”

“First, I’ll send these off to the lab. We’ll have results in a few days. I could send them somewhere here, but my forensic lab at the agency is state-of-the-art and one of the best in the world. If there’s something to discover, they’ll find it.

“Until then, we follow up on leads here. I need a list of everyone who may have had access to your research now and in the past.”

“You don’t think it’s someone who would have worked in the lab, do you?”

She wrote something down on the notebook she carried. “Dr. Douglas, at this point everyone who has come in contact with you over the last year is a suspect.”

She couldn’t be serious. “There’s no way it’s someone here at the university.”

Peering up from her notebook, she gave him a wary look. “You’re too trusting. Until we solve this case, no one comes into your lab except necessary personnel. With security like this, there shouldn’t be much trouble while you work,” she continued. “Have you had incidents in the lab?”

He shook his head. Every time she glanced at him, he wanted to reach out and touch her. Her auburn hair hung straight and shiny to her chin, and she shoved parts of it behind her ears. It was her voice, deep and filled with sex, that made his groin tighten even more, and his lungs struggle for air. There was a slight overpronunciation of certain vowels. He found it fascinating.

She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he realized he’d probably been staring at her like a cat after a canary. “Can you focus a minute and answer my questions? I need information. Has someone tried to hurt you here in the lab?”

“No, and they are not incidents. Unlike the dean, I do not believe what happened to me is related in any way. I have a long history of unfortunate mishaps. I have a tendency to bury my mind in my work and I don’t take notice of the world around me. I am a complete clichе and fully admit to being an absentminded professor. And unfortunately, I’m often in the wrong place at the wrong time. I consider it a quirky trait. The dean finds it bothersome.”

She grinned slightly at that as her pink fingernail tapped a distracting beat on the steel table. “So you weren’t mugged a block from the university and run off the road twice in the last two weeks?”

Before he could answer she held up a hand. “And there were phone calls to the dean’s voice mail. Both making comments that promised physical harm should you continue your research.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He guessed if one were to line up the events in such a way, it might look as if something was going on.

“Yes, those things did happen.” Macon cleared his throat.